palace of winds

Early last Saturday morning, in continuance of tradition, Bryce and I headed out for pancakes and an omelet at Al’s Breakfast in Dinkytown. I’m notorious for getting lost every time, either coming or going (but somehow usually not both), but this time I’d been smart and remembered to print out directions (it’s only when I print them out that I don’t need them) — only to discover upon arrival that 35W was closed. So we had to figure out some other way to go, and I only made one pointless circle, and the wally blues and Mexican omelet were delicious as always.

And that was the last time I thought about 35W until last night, when my sister told me it had collapsed. My family’s all accounted for. It’s still surreal, thinking about it, trying to reconcile the news images with my mental picture of that area. I’m going to try to go donate blood tomorrow, I think.